


The Empress's Necklace

by Elysandra



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Collars, F/M, Helen Magnus rules the world, Vampires, Vampires have blood partners, World Domination!AU, or rather: Necklaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Elysandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not exactly the life he had envisioned - but it couldn't have been more perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Empress's Necklace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fruitbat00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitbat00/gifts), [m_ravensblood](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=m_ravensblood).



> Cause of fanfic: The 'Fic Likes' of both fruitbat00 and m_ravensblood. I hope they both enjoy it!

“Dr. Magnus is in the library,” the servant - _employee, Nikola_ \- tells him as she hurries past him, barely pausing to answer his question. Official gatherings always have the servants - _employees!_ \- in a frenzy. It is quite amusing, at least as long as Helen lets him stay in his laboratories. Apropos Helen-

 

“Empress,” he calls after the girl, rolling his eyes. It’s no use; they love her. As long as she doesn’t use her title at home, they won’t either. He continues down the hallway, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. His fingers trace the rim of the pendant Helen ‘forgot’ to put on again. She never will. It’s turned into a kind of game: He will place it on the dresser for her to put on; Helen will leave it there for him to find and take after her. He always takes it after her; it’s one more reason to bug her, one more opportunity to lay his claim on her.

 

He does find ‘Dr. Magnus’ in the library, just as promised. She’s standing, her chair pushed to the side - probably the only concession she’ll ever be willing to make to any state of dress. Nikola pauses in the door frame and takes a moment to appreciate the way her elegant gown clings to her curves as she bends over, studying the large tome she has opened atop several others. The guests are gathering and she’s doing research - he’s torn between shaking his head, petting her head, and running his hand over her delicious derrière.

 

“We need to find a code of conduct HAPs and Weres can agree on,” she says out of nothing, causing Nikola to frown at her. He’s the one with vampiric hearing - she has to be guessing. She probably talks to empty rooms a lot, expecting him to stand behind her... That thought has him smirk.

 

“I’m quite sure we already knew that.”

 

He steps into the room, reaching her just as she straightens. Absent-mindedly, she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. No matter how diligently her hairstylist works, some strands always escape the confines she puts them in. They are a delight to play with when nothing else is left to take his mind off the utter boredom formal gatherings threaten him with.

 

“Yes, but I got news about serious altercations in Ireland today. This cannot wait any longer.”

 

She’s shifting books around, her eyes scanning passages she has marked before, turning pages, searching for a solution. Nikola closes the gap between them, catches her hand. His front to her back, he pulls her close, away from the table.

 

“We _could_ sit it out, let them reduce each others’ numbers until the problem solves itself,” he suggests. Helen tries to turn and slap his shoulder, but he tightens his hold on her waist and keeps her restraint.

 

“We could call it ‘fresh air’ campaign,” he fleshes out his idea as he tilts his head to nuzzle her neck. Helen is generally more receptive to his ideas when she isn’t quite thinking clearly.

 

“Vampires around the world would owe us a debt of gratitude.”

 

Helen huffs.

 

“No, Nikola, we can’t and we won’t.”

 

Either nuzzling isn’t quite enough to cloud her thoughts or, for some unfathomable reason, Helen just can’t see that his idea has merit. He prides himself on his flexibility, though.

 

“Okay. But why not let that foster boy of yours prove his worth and have him figure something out?”

 

She tries to turn again, but his lips have discovered the fact that her gown leaves quite a bit of her shoulders uncovered and he isn’t about to miss an opportunity to check on her freckles. Plus there’s the view down her décolleté this activity provides him with, and the way she melts against him when his teeth worry that one particular freckle on her collarbone...

 

“Henry?” Her answer takes slightly too long, comes with a little bit too much breath. It’s cute in a way that has his fangs grow and forces him to pull back because there will be no feeding before the appropriate part of the gala.

 

“He’s too young.”

 

“He’s growing up, Helen.”

 

While his fangs retract, his voice still retains its metallic quality and he feels her shiver.

 

“Let him prove himself.”

 

“Oh alright,” she says with a little growl, wriggling around until he allows her to turn.

 

“Good,” he murmurs against her lips, and uses her momentary distraction to reach into his pocket and pull out the pendant.

 

“You ‘forgot’ something.”

 

Helen wrinkles her nose in that endearing way she always does when he places the chain around her neck; she’s done it even back when she finally agreed that marking blood partners would save them a lot of trouble. Her agreement doesn’t mean she likes wearing the pendant, but neither does that stop Nikola from enjoying the act of fastening the chain at her neck and seeing the stone with his glyph engraved adorn Helen’s décolleté. It also doesn’t stop him from covering her lips with his own, hard, demanding, every time his glyph finally begins to move in time with her breathing, claiming the blood pulsing right under it, kept apart only by the thin barrier of her skin. It makes his possessiveness roar and satisfies it at the same time. It stills the need to claim, a need that will stay with him for as long as she agrees to share herself with him, her life, her blood.

 

He groans at the realisation that he will have to wait for almost everything he yearns for right now: Helen, her blood, and her body. At least he will be at her side tonight. Still, watching all those people crowd round her, trying to catch her attention, to talk to her, have her smile at them, to be seen standing close to her by as many as possible... If only there was a way to avoid those annoying partnering ceremonies. He is their king - he really shouldn’t have to attend gatherings he has no interest in. There has to be a rule somewhere, some book in this library-

 

But his Empress insists the Lords and Ladies need to be kept in a good mood, need to feel important, all the more with the huge amount of attention Helen is currently paying to her research project in South Africa. His Empress, naturally, is always right.

 

Tonight she has set her eyes on the Chimera Lord’s son, the ceremony the perfect opportunity to judge for herself if the boy is as clever and dedicated as everyone claims him to be. Even Nikola agrees that partnering him with someone who will deny him the education he deserves would be a waste of a promising mind. Plus, if Helen decides to cancel his father’s plans and offers the boy the apprenticeship Nikola knows she is secretly considering... Every new ‘employee’ he can persuade her to delegate tasks to means a few more minutes he gets to spend with his Empress. For that he will gladly suffer yet another fool roaming their halls.

 

“Shall we?”


End file.
